


And if you want me too

by goseaward



Series: One Direction pornlets [6]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bad polyamory negotiations, Exhibitionism, M/M, No polyamory negotiations, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goseaward/pseuds/goseaward
Summary: When Louis had asked if he could stay, Harry hadn't mentioned Nick would be here.  By the time he did say something, Louis felt like it would be admitting defeat to stay away.  He can make nice with Harry's boyfriend.  All the rest of it is just--water under the bridge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to helcinda for looking this over; all remaining errors are my own.
> 
> The poly stuff is not really negotiated. It works out okay because it's fiction, but--don't do that, kids.

After one particularly loud moan, Louis picks up his mobile. _I can hear you_ , he texts Harry.

There's no response. Of course there wouldn't be; Harry's got better things to pay attention to. When Louis had asked if he could stay, Harry hadn't mentioned Nick would be here. By the time he did say something, Louis felt like it would be admitting defeat to stay away. He can make nice with Harry's boyfriend. All the rest of it is just—water under the bridge.

He would have cancelled anyway if he'd known about the acoustics, though.

A soft laugh that Louis could identify as Harry at any volume in any place is followed by another moan that must be Nick. Louis picks up one of the spare pillows and smashes himself in the face a few times, just for something to do other than the obvious. But the obvious wins out. 

His phone flashes just before he falls asleep with a reply from Harry. _I'm sorry. We will be quieter tomorrow._

Not, Louis notices, a promise not to do it again. Well. He can't have everything. In fact, he can hardly have anything at all, when it comes to Harry. But at least he's here; at least they're making strides back to each other. Even if it's not in the way Louis would prefer.

 _You better, or else I'm going to ask to join in_.

It doesn't get a response, but then Louis hadn't thought it would. There's a list of topics they don't ever talk about any more, and being together like that—it's the first and biggest item.

* * *

They're not quieter.

The anger is a nice distraction from the way Louis's getting hard just listening to Harry have sex. That's not new, really. It used to happen all the time when they lived together or switched up tour buses, but Louis had liked to think, back then, that it had an edge: if he got over himself, that's what he could have. Well, he's over himself now—or at least he's working on it—and Harry already went and got himself a _fucking_ boyfriend.

Louis's composing a text and plotting his revenge when he hears footsteps down the hall—what the fuck kind of architect designed this place. They're probably coming to check that he's asleep. He sits up in bed so it's extra clear he's not.

The door pushes open—not quietly—and it's just Nick on the other side. "Evening," he says, like this isn't strange, Nick standing in the door of Louis's dark bedroom in his pants.

"I think you mean morning," Louis says. It's after midnight; that counts.

"Harry says his thing for you isn't reciprocal."

Louis's oddly aware of his own breathing. It didn't change when Nick said that, which is, frankly, a surprise to Louis. 

"I don't think that's true," Nick continues.

Louis sits up straighter. "Harry doesn't have a thing for me, and I definitely don't have a thing for him. Are you two going to let me sleep now?"

"No." Nick leans against the door frame like he owns the place—well, Louis supposes, he sort of does. At least more than Louis does, or ever could. "I always thought he was right. But then I saw that text you sent him."

"It's nice to know he keeps our conversations private," Louis says.

Clearly ignoring him, Nick says, "Anyway, I think you ought to sleep together."

Louis stares.

"Just try it. See if you like it."

"I was _joking_ ," Louis bursts out. "I'm not going to have sex with your boyfriend!" 

"I don't actually mind," Nick says. "I think it would be good for the pair of you."

There are more footsteps coming down the hall now, and Louis can't deal with this conversation at all. "You don't _mind_?" Louis says with all the scorn he has.

Nick shrugs, barely visible. "I don't."

"This is a weird fucking conversation."

Harry appears like a shadow in the door. "Hi, love," Nick says.

Louis wants to throw something.

"Are you coming back to bed?" Harry mumbles. He can't be unaware of what's going on, but he doesn't look at Louis at all.

Nick loops an arm around his waist and draws him in for a kiss. Louis profoundly does not want to be watching, even with the lack of detail, but they're _in his room_.

"He wants you," Nick says, a soft murmur, head still close to Harry's. "I told you." Louis can still hear every word.

Harry turns to look at him.

"If you could both leave so I can sleep, that would be great," Louis says viciously.

Harry startles back, but Nick doesn't let him go far. "We never have to talk about it again," Nick says. It's the biggest lie he's told yet this evening.

"Louis," Harry says, almost pleading, and if Louis was able to resist that voice, his life would be a lot different.

After a moment of hesitation, Louis flips down the covers on the other half of the bed.

Nick gives Harry a little push, and Louis doesn't even manage to change position before Harry's all over him, hands in his hair, tongue in his mouth. Louis almost misses the door clicking shut, except that Harry pauses to look over his shoulder when it happens. Louis yanks Harry back down onto him by the half-familiar curve of his shoulders and kisses him thoroughly. 

In his memory, Harry's soft, edged with baby fat, and he feels different under Louis's hands now, hard, adult. Taller. He didn't used to be so much bigger than Louis. Louis misses the old Harry a lot, sometimes. 

"Do you want to talk about—" Harry begins.

"No."

Harry's hand has already wormed its way into Louis's pants, gripping him where he's already hard and sensitive from it. "Wanna blow you," Harry says, and Louis can hear the question in it.

"Yeah," Louis says.

Harry slides down the bed and takes Louis's pants with him. He makes a little curious noise, not quite a moan, and sucks the head of Louis's dick into his mouth like he can't wait another second for it.

Louis grabs Harry hard by the hair to keep him there and Harry goes soft and eager, sliding his mouth down more. It's way too fast but Louis's not going to stop him. He remembers the last time he did—how Harry had been eager, clumsy and horny in that teenage way where he wanted to get off as fast as possible, and Louis'd had a pang of conscience or self-hatred and stopped him. That Harry is nothing at all like this Harry, who's getting Louis off with quite a lot of skill. He seems sure of himself, though Louis's sure he's not. He knows how Harry is when he's hurt; Louis had hurt him a lot, back when they were young and Louis was so fucking stupid. 

Harry's hot wet mouth is working Louis over like he's starving and it probably wouldn't take Louis long to come even if he hadn't started out halfway there. Louis squeezes the back of Harry's neck and Harry takes him deeper and it's all he needs; he comes, jerking, and his skin prickles with the ghost of every time he could have had this if he'd been a better person.

Harry licks him clean and then knee-walks up the bed. Louis doesn't have time to do more than curve his palm around Harry's hip before Harry's coming all over his chest. Harry flops down then, breathing damply into Louis's neck, and he doesn't say anything. Louis's not sure what he was expecting him to say, anyway. Why didn't we do that before? What changed? He has his own questions for Harry: How can you want that when I'm still such a dick to you?

He doesn't mean to fall asleep with Harry's fingers wound through his hair. 

He definitely doesn't mean to wake up alone.

* * *

"The master bed's more comfortable," Harry says from the door.

Louis jerks back and looks at him, hands still full of the towel wrapped around his hair. He schools his face into something resembling annoyance, but before he can reply, Harry says, "But if you come, Nick's staying."

"And if I don't come?" Louis says.

"Then I stay with Nick."

Louis starts drying his hair again. "So it's both or neither."

"Right," Harry says. He nods once, short, and taps his hand against the door frame. "It's up to you. I'm going to bed in about half an hour. You can come then if you want. If you were, you know, serious."

"Okay," Louis says. It's a silly statement. He's obviously coming, even though he hadn't been serious. 

Harry disappears, though, and a few minutes later Louis can hear the shower going from the master suite. The soundproofing in here really is shit. Louis hopes Anne's never stayed over at the same time as Nick.

Nick isn't there yet when Louis finally goes over. He'd thought he would be, but it's just Harry, reading with his legs under the covers far to the right side of the bed—because he's used to having another person in it, of course. The bed's massive, California king maybe, certainly big enough for three. Louis climbs right up the middle and leans up on one elbow, looking at Harry.

Deliberately, Harry puts the book on the bedside table.

"How does this work?" Louis says. He wants it to sound acid, uncaring. He doesn't think he succeeds.

Harry rolls a bit so they're facing each other. "I think, tonight, you and I get started, since Nick and I got started last night without you," he said. "Nick said he's okay with that."

"And he comes in later?" Louis says.

"Yeah, when he's done with his email." Harry reaches out to tuck a lock of Louis's hair behind his ear and Louis breathes in, nearly choking on it: all these products that smell like Harry Harry Harry to his hindbrain, Harry's eyes gentle and green and looking at him. It shouldn't feel like this at all.

"I'd ask how he knows when to come in, but I bet he'll be listening."

"He does like to listen," Harry says, pitched louder, and Nick yells fondly from somewhere else in the flat, "I'm trying to work here!"

Well, if that's not a challenge Louis has never heard one. "Great," he says, then strips off his shirt.

Harry's hands are on him before he even gets his arms free. Up over his pectorals, squeezing, and brushing over his nipples, moving higher until Harry can slide his fingers into the hair behind Louis's ears and pull him down for a kiss. He's less desperate tonight, at least for the moment. Louis opens for it and rolls so he's half on top of Harry, digging his thigh in between Harry's legs and grinding down so he can feel Harry's dick twitching to life. Harry makes some kind of noise—maybe he's trying to talk, whatever, Louis's got his tongue and Harry's not getting it back—and runs his hands over Louis's shoulders, down his back and then up his spine.

It's the kind of making out they did when they were teenagers, actually. Except now they both know what they're doing, and Louis doesn't feel conflicted about the press of Harry's dick against him. Well—he never felt conflicted about that. Conflicted about liking it, then. It was just friendly stuff between lads if there was no dick involvement, after all. No matter how much Louis had wanted dick involvement.

Harry manages to get his tongue back from Louis and slides his hands around to the front of Louis's waist to start pushing his pyjama bottoms down. Louis's dick pops free and Harry stops to stare at it, his head tilted, birdlike. He's never seen it in good lighting before, Louis realises, at least not hard. He reaches down to cup his balls, pushing up so his dick bobs.

"Sexy," Harry says.

From somewhere else, there's a creak of someone shifting in a wooden chair. Right. They've an audience. Louis moans theatrically when Harry wraps a hand around his dick. 

Harry just raises his eyebrows. "Come on, let's get these off," he says, pulling at Louis's waistband. 

"Your hand's in the way," Louis says.

Harry frowns at it. "This isn't a joystick?" he says, moving Louis's dick to the side.

Louis just stares at him until Harry meets his eyes, looking mischievous. "It's a miracle you ever get laid," Louis tells him. Harry grins that stupid dopey dimpling grin up at him, so Louis rolls onto his back, dragging his dick out of Harry's hand, and pushes his pyjamas off. "Now you."

Harry kicks the covers down to the end of the bed. Of course he was naked underneath. His dick's chubbing up but not really hard yet, a nice fat mouthful draped over his bollocks. Louis rolls down between his thighs and Harry's eyes go dark.

"Slick?" Louis says, pitched a little louder.

Harry reaches one arm back to a shelf in the side of the headboard. The movement stretches his torso out so Louis can see all the muscles he has. A tube of lube lands next to Harry's hip, followed by a condom, and Louis picks the tube up and slicks his fingers before he moves forward and takes Harry's dick into his mouth.

If he's honest, it tastes like he thought it would. It's a little disconcerting to know his imagination had been able to construct it so vividly. He sticks his arse up in the air and slides two fingers in to start getting himself ready. He can tell when Harry notices, because his dick jerks in Louis's mouth, harder between one suck and the next. 

Louis moans. Does moaning sound different when he's got a cock in his throat? Can Nick tell? He lets the saliva build up in his mouth so it's wetter, little noises from that, and he doesn't think Nick can hear those, but Harry vocally appreciates it, at least.

He bears down around his fingers, opening himself up, and sucks hard on the round head of Harry's dick. "Shit, Louis," Harry says. Louis thinks he's pulling on his own nipples. "You're really good at that, fuck."

Louis draws back and pulls his fingers out of himself. "Thanks, Harold," he says brightly, his voice cracking a little. He hears another creak from elsewhere. "Know what else I'm good at?"

Still breathing hard, Harry nods and pulls on his nips again.

Louis tears open the condom and brings it to his mouth. It's a party trick, but he's proud of it. He holds the tip against his hard palate and slides his mouth down Harry's prick as far as it will go. Harry holds still for it, one hand coming down to wind through Louis's hair. "That's nice, Lou," he says, a deeper growl, and Louis feels a pang of embarrassment that Harry's not surprised by it, that somebody's obviously done this for him before. Because, obviously, Louis had waited too long, and even his sex skills are subpar. He can't even deep throat; he has to roll the rest of the condom down with his hand. He slicks more lube on, just to be sure, and then scoots up the bed so he's suspended over Harry's hips.

"Can I kiss you again?" Harry says. 

It's such a weird thing to say, Louis thinks—like Harry couldn't bring Louis down to him if he wanted to, like Louis would say no. He folds over so their faces are together and Harry takes his time opening Louis's mouth. Fragile and dangerous, like the moment will shatter on anything. There's a lot that's different about it, from his cock pressed against Harry's stomach to the sheer size of Harry, but it's more like what they used to do than anything else so far. Even when Harry's long arm presses against Louis's side, under his hip, and the circle of his fingers feeds his dick right into Louis's arse. 

They moan at the same time, and Nick swears in the other room. 

Louis tries to pull back, to sit up, but Harry tightens his hand where it's in Louis's hair and doesn't let him go. He shifts his hips minutely but doesn't start fucking Louis, even though Louis wants him to, even though he feels so good that Louis's toes are curling against the outside of Harry's thighs. The kiss is sloppy and messy, Louis's mouth almost sliding off Harry's to the side, and finally Harry lets him go to tuck his face into the side of Harry's neck and start moving so Harry's dick is fucking in and out of him, 

"It'll be easier if you sit up," Harry says very quietly into Louis's ear.

"You're the one who wanted to kiss." Harry laughs at his tone. He must be used to Louis being cranky by now. Louis sits up and everything south of his navel tightens with how good that suddenly feels, with how much stimulation it is. Harry grips his waist to steady him and pumps up with his hips. "Shit," Louis groans.

Harry's frowning in concentration and Louis can see his whole torso tense every time he pushes up. Louis's still clenching around him, loose enough to enjoy it but not loose enough yet for it to be easy, but that doesn't seem to stop Harry, who keeps pushing through the pressure, keeping a steady pace. 

"Jesus, you're big," Louis says. He tries to hit that line between complaining and impressed, and hit it loud enough that Nick can hear in the other room.

Harry raises his eyebrows, then cuts his eyes to the doorway, and Louis nods. Harry grins. "Fuck, Louis," he says. Even with all his world travelling his accent still sounds close to home, _foock._ "You look so good riding my dick. So hot."

Louis lets out a loud groan and starts bouncing in counterpoint to Harry's rhythm so they smack together when Harry gets all the way in. Unfortunately he's got a good-quality bed so there's no squeaking or headboard banging; slapping skin will have to do. He reaches down to start jacking himself off and then he doesn't have to fake the moan. He always forgets how bloody great that feels, how ready he is for some friction once the fucking gets going. 

"Wanna eat you out," Harry says. 

Louis tightens around him at the thought, but Harry doesn't let the rhythm falter. 

"Bet you love that," Harry breathes out.

Louis can't tell him he doesn't know. It's not something he's ever been interested in, really, but the thought of Harry, with his enthusiastic tongue and his lack of shame—

"Eat you out while Nick fucks me," Harry says, and Louis wonders, suddenly, whose fantasy this is. 

He braces himself on Harry's shoulder so he can fuck backwards instead of up and down. It doesn't feel quite the same, but his thighs are too tired to keep going the way he had been. Harry slips one hand around to feel where his dick's coring Louis open. "Oh, yeah, babe," Harry says, an odd echo of Zayn. "You gonna come?"

Louis moans instead of answering. It's good, but he's not quite there yet. Harry seems to take this as the challenge it is, lifting his hips up to meet him in jarring thrusts that Louis's sure he's going to feel tomorrow. Harry's fingertips are pressing into Louis's arse now and Louis wishes he bruised more easily so he could look at those, too, as a memory of this. Who knows when it will happen again, after all. He'll take being a shared sex toy for tonight, but he doesn't have any illusions about what they have in mind for the long term. 

"You feel so good on my dick," Harry says breathlessly.

"Bully for you," Louis says, over top of a moan from behind him. Oh, so that wasn't for him, then. He cranes his neck around to see Nick stood in the doorway, squeezing himself through his boxers. Nick must have a great view of Louis sliding up and down on Nick's boyfriend's cock. Louis turns back around and grabs his arsecheeks with both hands, pulling them apart so Nick can see even better. It should feel weird, doing this in front of Nick, but on the other hand, it's exactly what he's here for.

The bed dips and then Nick's there beside them, boxers discarded. The head of his cock is shiny where his foreskin's rolling back and Louis stares at it a moment. So Nick Grimshaw's got a cock. Louis had suspected, after all, but seeing it is something else. Right there, waiting to be touched, or—

That must just be the jolly good rogering he's getting, making him think about touching Nick's dick.

"Can I?" Nick says, one hand hovering next to Louis, and Louis looks at Harry's dark eyes and nods. Nick runs the backs of his fingers down Louis's side, stopping when they catch in the dip of his waist. It's a sensation Louis doesn't know what to do with: he can't sort it out, having an extra hand on him, when he's full of Harry. It doesn't feel wrong, exactly, but it doesn't feel right either, to have someone else joining in. Nick turns his hand so his fingers curl around to press into the soft flesh Louis hates at the top of his arse.

"Oh, fuck," Harry says, looking where Nick is touching Louis. He thrusts harder into Louis's arse. "Fuck—" And then he's coming, unmistakably, face shocked open and eyes half-closed in bliss. Louis fists his dick faster as Harry pumps up a few last times, but he can already tell he's not going to get to come with Harry still inside him: it's too far off.

Harry moans and goes limp on the bed. Louis glares at him, then over at Nick, who just looks amused. _His_ great fuck didn't get interrupted, after all. Louis slides off, grunting at the same time as Harry when his dick slips out of him, and then he's just horny and empty, one of his least favourite combinations.

"I'm sorry I missed most of that," Nick says. He's leant down on the bed next to Harry now, carding his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry's almost purring, and Louis's angry he hadn't thought of it first. "Looked like a good time."

"So good," Harry says. He's watching Louis for that one. Louis just glares at him, though. Everything feels weird now the momentum's stopped: Nick and Harry cuddling on their bed, Louis sitting like an angry elf with a stiffy in the middle of the bed, probably leaving a nice big lube spot on the sheets. He's not sure where things go from here. Harry seemed to think a threesome was in the cards, but then he went and popped off like a 12-year-old with his first porno (a live one, snarks a voice at the back of Louis's head, with his teenage crush and his current lover together). What do you do with a love—well, sex—triangle when the vertex already got his rocks off?

"Could have gone longer," Louis says. He shrugs and tries to figure out if he should touch his dick or not. It's not as much fun getting off when his arse is already slicked-up and open but empty, but he doesn't exactly want to slink back to the guest suite with a gradually fading hard-on, either.

"You liked it, then?" Nick asks. There's a queer tone in his voice Louis hasn't heard before. Arousal, probably. Nick's not touching himself either, at least.

"Loved it." They can choose which part of it they think he loved. Weaponized truth, it's a favourite of Louis's. "Up until the rather unexpected end."

Nick narrows his eyes, and Louis thinks he's probably harping on that a bit much—they've all done it, he's sure—but he's unsatisfied and a little freaked out, now, since he's not sure what to do. It was easier when Harry's dick was in him. Things were clearer. Now—

"There's another dick in this room," Harry says.

"No talking from you, Hair Trigger," Louis says, before he realises Harry's speaking literally instead of being insulting: Nick's cock is mostly hard, canted down at a funny angle towards the bed since he's lying on his side. It curves to the side enough that it looks a little like Nick's plugged into the mattress via his penis, which is not a mental image that Louis really wanted.

"Not that I'm not flattered," Nick said, "but, just so we're clear, if we're fucking the rest of me gets some attention too. I'm not just a disembodied dick."

Louis frowns. "Nobody said we're fucking." He's still staring at Nick's dick, though. 

"He's really good at it," Harry says quietly. He sits up behind Louis and puts his chin on Louis's shoulder. Louis's looking at Nick, but Nick's looking at Harry. He can't see who Harry's looking at. He might not want to know.

He's never found Nick particularly attractive, but he understands what Harry sees in him. Not just that they're friends. You don't really see Nick's face when you're talking to him; you see the expression instead, not his heavy brow or his weird forehead. Harry'd be the same, Louis thinks, if he wasn't so good-looking you literally can't forget it. 

"I'd like to see you kiss," Harry says.

Louis huffs: Harry gave up his right to participate in this conversation. "I'd think you were too wrung out to enjoy it."

"You should sit on his stomach, he likes that," Harry says, like Louis hadn't spoken at all. "Bend down and kiss him. He'll put you where he wants."

Nick's lashes have dropped a little, listening. The words make Louis hot all over but he can't show that. He also can't just sit on a naked man he hardly knows, even if they're going to have sex tonight. Which they probably will, because Louis can't refuse Harry anything, especially when Harry wants to give something to him. It clearly means something to Harry to give Nick to Louis, though he doesn't understand why. 

He bends down from where he's sitting and kisses Nick, soft and exploratory, mouth closed. Nick's lips are parted just enough that Louis's lower lip is damp when he pulls back. 

"Hot," Harry says a bit breathily. Louis puts his hand back and covers Harry's face—he gave up his right to comment on this—and Harry laughs against his palm.

"Here." Nick sits up. He pulls Louis towards him with a hand on his shoulder and Louis goes. Nick leans in for the kiss this time, opens his mouth for it, and Louis licks along Nick's teeth before he sinks into it fully. Nick's good at this, at least. Harry's probably right about the fucking too. Louis clenches down around nothing and is reminded of how much he hates that feeling until he gets off. Maybe it will work. Maybe. He pulls back and Nick blinks at him, then down at Harry, and fuck that: nobody snogs Louis whilst thinking about someone else. He digs his fingers into Nick's hair and pulls him closer and kisses him until Nick's moaning into his mouth. Then he pushes Nick over and climbs onto his stomach, just like Harry said. Harry swears softly behind him, but Louis doesn't care: this is where he makes sure Nick's paying attention to him. Harry'd been right, too: Nick pulls Louis up with one big hand on the back of his upper thigh so he's at the right height and sinks the fingers of his other hand into Louis's hair to control where he goes. Louis can't tell which of them stole that from the other. 

But yeah. It's going to work.

Harry's hands wrap around his waist and it's easier, then, to figure out how to deal with two people touching him, because he knows how Harry does it: he doesn't have to pay attention to it. Harry kisses down his spine while Nick kisses his mouth and it's nice.

Louis lets Nick's mouth go and sits up, pushing his back closer to Harry, who squeezes him a little and starts trying to suck a love bite into the middle of Louis's back. He really doesn't bruise easily, though. Nick's smiling up at him, and that just isn't right at all. Louis frowns; Nick looks taken aback. 

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" Louis says acidly.

Nick's eyebrows crawl up his forehead, and then suddenly he breaks into a small smile, like he's figured Louis out. He probably has; that would just be Louis's luck. "You should be the one enjoying yourself," he says. "Right in the centre and all."

Louis narrows his eyes. "Am I not enough for you?"

"More than," Nick says. He bucks up under Louis and his dick knocks against one of Louis's arse cheeks. 

"Good." Louis resists the temptations to cross his arms. He pinches Nick's nipple, though, and Nick makes a small sound.

"Y'wanna fuck, then?" Nick says, sounding like he doesn't care. "Give our boy a show."

"It's not for me," Harry says, sounding like it's entirely for him.

Louis shrugs. "Fine."

Nick runs the back of his fingers down Louis's chest, down to his cock, giving it a few strokes. Harry's hand knocks into Louis's arse, and he realizes Harry's putting a condom on Nick. "You gonna make noises like that for me?" It's clear he's talking about—before.

"We'll see how good you are," Louis says.

Nick grins knowingly up at him. "Okay." He starts sliding to the side, urging Louis up and off him. That will put Louis under Nick's control, but he won't lie, his quads are thanking him. "Hands and knees."

"Aye aye, cap'n," Louis says. Harry snort-giggles where he's crawling up to lie on his side next to Louis. Louis settles himself on his hands and knees, debating whether or not he should push his arse out. It's easier to just kneel squarely, though, so he does. Harry kisses the side of his wrist. Nick's doing something behind them, but Louis's trying not to think about it—it's weird enough that this is about to happen, though Louis's dick is pretty happy about it.

Nick's cock brushes squarely between his cheeks, up against his hole and up and down his crack. He lubed up more, which isn't exactly how Louis likes it, but Louis also knows it will be easier that way. "Y'okay?" Nick says, long witchy fingers coming to rest on Louis's hip. His thumb's over a sore point from where Harry was grabbing him so hard before.

"Come on and fuck me," Louis says, pushing back against Nick's dick.

"You didn't sound this impatient with Harry," Nick observes dryly.

Louis curves his back to display his arse better, and Nick stops complaining.

He sinks in easier than Louis's expecting. It makes sense, really—he's never taken two dicks in a row before. The thought sends a shudder through his whole body, and Nick grunts and pushes in farther, till his thighs are flush with the back of Louis's and Louis is stuffed full. He doesn't take it slow, just starts fucking Louis firm and fast, hands pulling Louis's hips back against him.

Louis lets his head drop between his shoulders. He can feel Harry's eyes on him, burning, and he doesn't want to think about it: what this means, what any of them want. The physical sensation is enough, more satisfying than riding Harry had been on a purely physical level because it's easier to go fast and he wants fast right now. It's still too slick, not quite enough drag, but Louis can tense against it. At least his arse seems to have shut Nick up: there's no more talking, just Nick's harsh breaths and the faint sounds as Harry shifts next to them. 

Nick draws one hand down Louis's spine and it makes him want to curve into it like a cat. He must do something because he kind of—opens and Nick hits his prostate and then it's really on: hard and fast and aimed just right, Louis making noises like he's still trying to show off and Nick bending forward so his stomach's pressed to Louis's back, hands slipping in the sweat rising from Louis's skin. 

He pauses just a moment to grind into Louis, and Louis's aware, vaguely, that his toes are starting to curl.

"I think he likes it," Nick says into Louis's ear, and Louis lifts his head to see. 

Harry's got this stupid grin on his face like Nick and Louis are puppies licking each other or something instead of Harry's own personal sex show. "So hot, Louis," Harry says as he reaches his hand down, and Louis knows with sudden clarity that Harry shot off early on purpose so he'd get to watch this. Jesus. But, like they've got some kind of psychic connection, Harry grips him just as Nick goes back to fucking into him hard, and Louis doesn't want to think about it any more.

And he doesn't have to: between Nick's dick and Harry's hand Louis's body hardly feels like his own, just a rising flush of pleasure that fills him from the centre out. "That's it, baby," Harry says, "come when you want to," and Louis's still not close enough yet, but he can't look away from Harry's face, gleaming eyes and cheeks dimpling though he's hardly smiling at all. It's fucking unfair, is what it is, and it's only a couple of minutes before Louis comes on a wrung-out gasp, too wound up to draw it out.

He falls forward, trapping Harry's hand, and Nick slides out of him easy, easy. There's a plastic sound as Nick rips the condom off and Louis's aware of Harry sitting up next to him—must be helping Nick out. Maybe with the come-covered hand he wormed out from beneath Louis's belly. Louis feels the wetness of the come hitting his lower back, and it's dirty and humiliating and, somehow, Louis likes it. It might be how Harry's sitting next to him, looking down hot-eyed and slack-mouthed as Nick does it, or it might be the way it means he can't roll over, so he has to lie on his stomach still showing the arse both Nick and Harry have rather thoroughly fucked in the last half hour. 

"Well, I think that was a success," Harry says smugly. Fucking Cheshire cat of a human being, really.

Nick laughs quietly and puts a hand on Louis's calf. "How are you doing?" he says. Like he fucking cares.

Louis turns his head so he can see both of them out of the corner of his eye. Harry's dick's all fat again, not totally hard, and Louis pushes down the urge to tell him to come on Louis's back too. "Well, I'm covered in jizz," Louis says. "How would you be?"

"Night well spent, then," Nick says.

Harry laughs.

Right. He's not dealing with normal human beings. "I'll just go wipe myself off, then, shall I." He levers himself up, limbs still quaking a bit. He's intending to go back to the loo in the hall, but Harry says, helpfully, "Shower's through there," pointing at one of several identical doors in one wall, and refusing would be too obvious.

Nick comes in when he's partway through showering; Louis could tell by the height of the shadow that came through the door. "Did you find the soap?" he says. "I brought you a towel."

"Yes, and thanks," Louis says shortly.

The shower curtain gets shoved to the side a few inches and Nick's face appears around it. Louis tries not to jump. "You're gonna stay in here with us, right?" he says, lowly, as if that's going to prevent sound from travelling in this fucking place. "Haz is gonna be sad if you don't."

Louis doesn't answer; he has to think about it.

"He slept in the other guest room last night, if you were wondering," Nick says. "I think he'd go there again if you left. And I rather like having him in my bed, so. Stay, okay?"

Louis doesn't understand why he's asking, but, fine. It's fucking lonely, a bed by yourself after a shag. "Okay," he says.

Nick smiles quickly and ducks back out of the shower.

* * *

Louis's still not sure what's happening, but given the looks Harry and Nick have been sending him all day, he guesses he's expected in their bedroom again tonight. He leans against the doorjamb, not quite willing to come in without a specific invitation, but neither of them looks surprised to see him, and Harry comes over to kiss him on the cheek and close the door. Louis's not sure why, it's not like there's anyone else in the flat, but it does give the room a nice ambiance with—Christ, several candles. Of course. 

Harry grins at him, then goes into the en suite, shuts the door firmly, and turns the shower on.

"Somehow, I think he wants us to talk," Louis says.

Nick laughs.

Louis sits on the edge of the bed and bounces, testing the mattress. He's decided to be a little more possessive today, act a little more like he's an equal participant. "Not really sure what there is to say," Louis says. "I'm going to let you guys fuck me until I leave, so."

Nick frowns. "That's not—no," he says. "You're not just a fuck toy. To be clear."

"Sure," Louis says.

Nick sits down next to him, which is scary in its own way. Louis's been trying to avoid Nick, if he's honest. He's never particularly liked him, although they've reached a detente since Nick's been dating Harry. And then there was the great sex, and Louis's not really sure how to handle that. Or how to handle how...fond he's feeling about him. Squishy things like that don't belong here, he's sure, no matter what Nick says.

"I'm not going to fuck things up for you," Louis says. "You won. I know. He's happy with you, so. I'll just take this."

Nick frowns at him again. Not the reaction Louis was going for—he'd thought Nick would be relieved or happy or something, but he just looks upset. "Do you think this is going to end when you leave?" he says. Before Louis can reply, he adds, "I mean, d'you think _we're_ going to end it when you leave? You can do whatever you want."

Louis frowns too. "Yes? What would happen after I leave?"

"Right." Nick reaches out and puts a hand on Louis's knee, which is a little unfair, because Louis has to ignore the thrill of arousal it sends through him—and there's another thing he doesn't know how to handle. "You should hear how Harry talks about you," Nick says, a low blow. "I think he'll want to keep seeing you."

"But you're—" Louis waves a hand between them, then at the door to the loo.

"We're not exclusive," Nick says, and Louis laughs. Nick twists his face up. "Right? Sounds like we're swingers from the 70s or summat. But—I mean it. He can do what he wants. I can do what I want. And when we're together, we're together."

Louis looks pointedly at his knee. It's one thing for Nick to say to Louis that Harry wants him, but this is something else. Relationships don't work like that. "So this is, what, a sex triangle?" Louis says. "Like, we both want Harry, and he just doesn't choose?"

Nick tilts his head to the side, like it's a new thought. "Maybe," he says finally. "Only we're not rivals, are we? If we can both have him, and we don't mind each other."

Louis stares at him incredulously.

"Please," Nick says, unimpressed. "You obviously don't mind having sex with me. Do you think I'm being, like, magnanimous?" He laughs. "Last night was fantastic."

Louis flushes hot. To hide it, he says, "Only because Harry shot off early on purpose so he could watch us together."

Nick rolls his eyes. "I doubt that was on purpose," he said. Louis doesn't agree, but Nick can have a rose-tinted view of Harry if he wants. "Don't think he'd give up an arse as good as yours just to watch us after he'd already come." He shakes his head. "God, you should have seen yourself, taking my dick."

"Oh, great, bad porn dialogue."

Nick screws up his face, and Louis feels a little fond about that, too, dammit. "Right," he says. "I'm no good at the dirty talk. Too much time trying to censor myself for teenagers. I feel like a bloody primary school teacher sometimes."

"I don't think you can say bloody in front of teenagers," Louis says. "Or talk about being hungover as much as you do on the radio."

Nick's eyebrows go up. "You listen to my show?"

"Jetlag," Louis says. "I listen to a lot of morning radio."

Nick looks far too satisfied about that, so Louis says, "This might be a helpful conversation to have _before_ the crazy threesome shagging next time you lure an innocent into your bed. Just for your information."

"Radio?" Nick says. "And wait—innocent?" he adds, sliding his hand up so the outside of his pinky is pressed against Louis's half-hard dick.

"No, the whole not exclusive bit. Communication is very important," Louis says archly. "For instance, you should probably ask before you dump a naked aroused man into someone else's bed."

"I did ask," Nick says. 

"After you'd worked me up by being so loud—" He quiets his own voice as the water shuts off in the en suite.

Nick smirks. "Listening, were we?"

Shit. 

"It's okay," Nick says. "I left the door open on purpose that time."

Before Louis can reply, Harry sticks his head into the bedroom. "Are you done?" His arm is moving not so subtly—tugging his dick to hardness. Typical.

"Two minutes, love," Nick says. "Turn the water back on so you can't hear."

"Kay," Harry says agreeably.

Two minutes is more than enough for the rough outline of a plan, and Nick and Louis are waiting naked for Harry when he comes out again. He does his slow blink thing—struck dumb with lust, probably. No one would accuse Harry of being a complicated person. Louis jerks his thumb towards the head of the bed. "Up there," he says.

Neither Nick nor Louis moves as Harry crawls between them. He hesitates when he gets to the pillows and Nick says, "On your back, and close your eyes." His voice is soft, and Louis's not sure how he feels about knowing what Nick sounds like when he's in love.

Harry complies. He settles his hands over his head, holding onto the top shelf of the headboard. Louis shoots Nick a glance and Nick just shrugs. Yeah, Louis should have known Harry would like that. It's rather the point of the plan, after all.

Nick and Louis climb up the bed together—it's weird how well they're coordinating on this. Harry shifts his legs, spreading them enough to press his pelvis up, making his dick move on his belly. Louis drops to one elbow and watches Nick do the same across Harry's heaving stomach. They keep eye contact as they move closer—it's easier to time the approach that way—and lick a stripe up each side of Harry's dick at the same time. They kiss briefly around the head of Harry's dick, which works less well than Louis thought it would, and stay in unison as they mouth down and back up again. Then Nick looks at Louis again and Louis nods.

Louis moves up and slides his mouth down Harry's cock as Nick goes for his balls. "Fucking—fuck," Harry says, slow and drawn-out from the head of the bed. The taste of him gets stronger as more precome drips out. Louis turns to look, but he's still got his eyes closed, hands white-knuckled on the headboard. Louis reaches up and pinches one of his nipples hard in reward, and Harry moans and rocks his hips up into Louis's mouth.

Louis doesn't go for anything fancy: he doesn't think Harry needs it right now. Nipple pinch, suck hard and firm, steady rhythm on his dick, that'll do it. For more than just Harry; Louis's own dick is starting to demand attention, stiff between his thighs. He fills his hands with Harry to distract himself, one on the inside of Harry's thigh pulling him open, one continuing to twist a nipple. Harry pushes his chest into it. 

As a test, Louis just brushes Harry's shaft with his teeth. Harry makes an odd warbling moan and jerks away from Louis's mouth a little. Louis's not sure that's a no, but he thinks it does count as a not right now, so he goes back to sucking. Nick licks up around the base of Harry's cock where Louis can't get quite deep enough to take all of him and they meet a few times on Louis's downstroke before Nick rolls between Harry's thighs.

That's why they divided things this way: there are some things Louis's still not quite prepared to do. Nick seems very happy to do them, though. Louis pulls Harry's thigh even wider out and he can tell just from the noises Harry's making when Nick gets his tongue in Harry's arse. It changes the angle for Louis, too—Nick has to pull Harry's pelvis up and off the bed; Louis rubs Harry's lower back and then Nick's fingers on Harry's arse, where he's holding him up. Harry's abs flex under Louis's cheek as he works to curl himself up even farther. It's different to how it was last night, just him and Harry. Almost feels too fast. Louis hadn't been sure he'd get hard, with Nick there, but in the end it's easy. He's not as hard as Harry, though, firm and leaking against his tongue. He's moaning freely as he presses down against Nick's face and then up into Louis's mouth again.

Suddenly Louis's being quite thoroughly groped by a free hand—Nick paying attention to him. That's starting to feel...not-weird. He rides his cock along Nick's palm and tries to take Harry deeper. Nick can probably deep-throat him, but Louis can't. Not enough experience. Hopefully it's not too awful, though. Scratch that. Harry seems to be enjoying himself; maybe Louis should, too.

Louis works one foot around to Nick's crotch, since he can't reach with any other body part, and rubs along the underside of Nick's dick with his toes.

Laughing, Nick pulls back from Harry's arse. "A foot job, really?"

"You want me to stop?" Louis says.

"Hey," Harry says, slowly, from the head of the bed. Louis turns to look at him and he's still got his hands gripped to the headboard, eyes open but not very focused. "Can I see?"

Then Louis's laughing, too. "That get you off, Styles?" he says. "Foot jobs? We could switch—"

Harry's eyes open wide. "Nooooo," he says.

Nick buries his bark of laughter in Harry's thigh.

While they're taking a break anyway, Louis starts flicking Harry's nipples, left then right, watching his dick twitch every time he hits one. "Louis," Harry whines finally.

"Did you want something?"

Harry shoves his hips up. "C'mon," he says. "Love your mouth. Please."

Nick gets his face back between Harry's legs and Louis's not sure if that's competition or just lust. Harry lets out a long, rolling moan and Louis sucks his cock back down before he comes just from the rimming.

Maybe Nick was right about Harry's hair trigger, because he doesn't last much longer after that. Louis pulls off fast after the first pulse of come into his mouth—bit rude not to warn him, though with how out of it Harry looks, Louis supposes he can't blame him—and works Harry's cock with his hand through the end of it. Nick reappears, lower face shiny with saliva, and licks up a bit of the come on Harry's stomach.

Harry's panting, up at the head of the bed. Louis's still hard, and it's deadly quiet with just their breaths, but it feels somehow not awkward. Like...maybe this is a thing Louis would do again, for fun, and not just because it's the only way Harry will have him. How odd. He wonders when that changed.

Nick jerks his head towards Harry and then crawls up so he's sitting by Harry's shoulder. Louis doesn't have any better ideas, so he joins him.

"You can let go of the headboard, now, love," Nick says gently.

Harry mutters something, then takes a big breath and peels his fingers away from the wood. He opens his eyes and looks at both of them. "Thought we'd use your mouth," Nick says, and Harry licks his lips. "Which one of us d'you want first?"

Harry moves his eyes back and forth between their dicks, still out of it from orgasm. Louis tries not to laugh at how indecisive he looks. After a moment, he says, hopefully, "Both?"

Nick's eyebrows go up.

Louis shrugs.

"Okay then," Nick says. He puts the head of his dick against Harry's lips and Louis scoots closer to join him.

It's not the most effective blowjob Louis's ever had, in terms of technique: Harry can hardly do more than mouth at them one at a time. But he looks hot like that, happy and overwhelmed, and the heat of Nick's erection right next to Louis helps, too. Louis comes first, spurting mostly onto Harry's cheek, and then flops to the side. Nick slides his fingers into Harry's hair and fucks his mouth for another few minutes until he comes deep in Harry's throat.

Harry wasn't wrong. There's something compelling about watching two people put on a live sex show for you.

Once Nick's got off, he sits back and starts petting Harry idly: hair, face, chest. Louis starts in on the arm that's closest to him and Harry hums appreciatively. On impulse, Louis brings Harry's hand to his face and kisses his knuckles, and Harry sighs and stretches.

"Good thing you took a shower," Louis says. "What with the covered in come thing you have happening right now."

Harry opens his eyes and gives him a half-hearted glare. "Well, if you'd just swallowed," he says. "Or not come all over my face."

"I did swallow!"

"Not all of it."

"Well, excuse _me_ ," Louis says. He's still holding onto Harry's hand.

Nick sighs deeply. "I'll get a flannel."

Harry revives when Nick comes back, tackling him so they fall into a laughing pile on the floor. "Oh, of course, _now_ he's got energy," Louis says, because he doesn't want to feel ignored, and Harry flips him off over the side of the bed.

Louis lays down, waiting for them to come back up. It doesn't take too long. "Lou, Lou, Lou-eeeeee, give us a cuddle," Harry says, draping himself across Louis's back. Louis rolls over and wraps an arm around Harry's waist, and Harry sighs and melts into him, like he's much younger than he really is. "You're staying in here, right?"

"Yeah," Louis says reluctantly.

"Wait, so all I had to do was turn on the cow eyes? And I went to all the trouble of a sensible adult conversation!" Nick says faux-dramatically.

Harry raises his head. "Aww, look at you." Disgustingly in love. "You too," he says to Louis, sticking his face against Louis's neck again. And that's—

"I'll get the light," Nick says.

Louis stays.


End file.
